


Safehouse

by WiseWhoaman



Series: Isoli and Rinol [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Idiots in Love, Love, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29569659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiseWhoaman/pseuds/WiseWhoaman
Summary: While holed up in a safehouse, Isoli and Rinol find a way to stave off boredom and anxiety.
Relationships: Female Aasimar/Male Yuan-Ti Pureblood, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Isoli and Rinol [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172435





	Safehouse

They’d been stuck inside the house for two days now. Two days of having someone sit at the window, peeking out from the curtains in case the guards came knocking. Two days of eating food conjured up by Silhouette, food that was nourishing and filling but aggressively bland to the taste. The safehouse had only a small collection of books: histories and biographies, mostly; boring, stuffy volumes that held little interest to anybody. There was little in the way of decoration, either, so the house itself was bland and boring.

Isoli clicked her claws over and over on the wooden surface of the table, a sharp tapping noise echoing through the parlour room. It was her watch. The city outside was bustling: people walking to and fro, merchants calling out their prices, the occasional guard patrolling the road. But the safehouse was in a safe, wealthy part of the city with little in the way of crime. The house itself, on the outside, was just a regular house. Nothing particularly special about it. The parlour room itself that Isoli sat in was bare bones: a table, a small sofa, a pair of chairs. There was a bookshelf against one wall with only a few books displayed.

Isoli sighed and rubbed her eyes. She felt anxious and full of pent-up energy. It had been weeks since they last stayed in a single place for more than a couple days and maybe it was the fact that Isoli had gotten used to being on the road so much that staying in one place against her will just grated on her. The others didn’t seem to mind so much. Lyss was using their free time to practice her sword skills with Rinol. Alosiel was working on some songs detailing their various adventures. Silhouette was . . . well, she was mostly sitting cross-legged in one corner of the house, murmuring to herself, but she did that most of the time when they were on the road anyway. But Isoli felt trapped. Caged.

Time passed. People walked by, not even glancing at the house. Isoli conjured a small flame in her clawed hand, played it through her claws like a coin. She concentrated and it transformed from a small candle-like flame to a drop of smoldering green acid. Concentrated again, and the acid changed to a ball of crackling lightning. There was the slightly acrid smell of ozone and a soft crackling sound. After a few minutes, Isoli sighed and dropped the spell. The ball of lightning vanished with a small pop. She began to play with the end of her skirt, noticed that there was a frayed thread. Isoli frowned at that, pulled at the thread until it snapped.

Distantly came the sounds of people talking from deeper inside the house, but Isoli couldn’t make out the words. It was Alosiel talking, though. Maybe with Lyss? Harc? She couldn’t tell; probably Lyss, though. Then came the soft strumming of an instrument and Alosiel’s voice softly singing.

Isoli strained her ears to listen. It wasn’t one of his new songs. It wasn’t even _his_ song, she realized. No, this was an older tune.

Isoli hesitated. Knew she shouldn’t leave her post, but come on, no one had so much as looked at the house in two days. Why would they start now?

 _Fuck it,_ she thought, and got up, headed into the back of the house.

Back in the drawing room, Alosiel sat in a chair, strumming his guitar and singing softly. Across from him, Lyss sat curled up with her knees to her chin on the sofa, smiling and mouthing the words to the song along with Alosiel. In the corner, legs crossed and body still as stone, Silhouette watched silently, eyes bright beneath her hood.

The song was a quiet one, contemplative. It was about a pair of lovers who spend a rainy day inside. Isoli closed her eyes, let the soft music wash over her. She imagined her and Rinol curled up on a sofa or in a bed, somewhere, it didn’t matter. Isoli smiled to herself at the image.

Arms gently wrapped around her. Isoli jumped, startled at the touch, twisted her neck to see Rinol behind her. Isoli relaxed, letting herself lean back against his body, letting him support her. His hands were clasped and pressed against her stomach, gently holding her to him.

Rinol rocked the two of them in time with the music. Isoli closed her eyes again. The music washed over her. She felt herself drift in Rinol’s arms. A light kiss on the shell of her ear. His breath played over the skin on her neck, warm and comforting and slightly tickling. Isoli suppressed a giggle. The two of them swayed gently together, feeling content and at peace.

Eventually, Alosiel finished the song. He looked around, grinned. “Well, if I knew all I needed to do was play songs to get you all out here, I’d have done it ages ago.”

“It was lovely,” Lyss said.

“No, _you’re_ lovely,” Alosiel said without missing a beat, pointing at her. Lyss laughed.

“You have a good voice,” Silhouette murmured.

Alosiel’s eyes widened in mock shock at the tiefling’s words. “She speaks! I’d forgotten how wonderful your voice sounds.”

Silhouette frowned, but said nothing.

Isoli heard Rinol’s voice whisper in her ear, “Step out with me for a second?”

Isoli nodded and Rinol gently pulled her by the hand into the parlour room. He moved them over to the sofa and sat down, tugging her onto his lap. Isoli giggled, shifting so that she straddled his hips in a more comfortable manner, placed her hands on his shoulders for support. Rinol grinned and drew her in for a kiss. It didn’t last very long, just a peck really, before he pulled away.

His hands traveled up and down her sides, gentle comforting strokes. He said, “Are you okay? You seem anxious.” 

In the drawing room, the sound of Alosiel’s guitar and voice started up once again. Isoli hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ve been better. Being cooped up in here all day is starting to grate on me.”

“I’m sorry. It’s been rough, I know.”

Isoli smiled, nuzzled Rinol’s cheek. “Gods, I just feel anxious. Like you’re waiting to hear bad news but it hasn’t come yet and there’s nothing you can do except just _wait._ You know?”

Rinol laughed lightly, wrapped his arms around her back and said, “A little. I guess it’s easier for me to relax. Because whatever is going to happen, will happen, so there’s no point in worrying about it. Does that make sense?”

“I suppose. Doesn’t make it easier to just sit here and do nothing, though.”

Rinol gave her a small kiss on her cheek. “I think I can find a way to keep you distracted.”

Isoli grinned. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“Nothing too exciting. Just some sparring maybe. You haven’t been keeping up with your sword training, after all.”

Isoli wrinkled her nose. “No, I’ll get all sweaty and we only have the one bath.”

Rinol said, “Guess I’ll have to give you a sponge bath then.”

Isoli laughed out loud at that, leaned back away from him to look him in the eye. “Really? That’s the best line you can come up with? And here I thought you were the boy every girl wanted to sleep with in your home.”

Rinol grinned. “Some of the boys, too.”

Isoli just laughed harder and wrapped her arms around his head, covering his eyes. She felt more than heard Rinol laugh with her as his arms rubbed up and down her back. “Gods, you’re so corny.”

“Of course, none of them hold a candle to you, darling. Have I told you today that you’re so very pretty.”

Isoli cupped his face in his hands, making sure her talons weren’t digging into his flesh. She stared down at the man she had fallen so very deeply in love with, saw sparkling within his dark snake-like eyes a very warm love. Isoli felt her heart sore. This man loved her, truly loved her, and it seemed a miracle every time she realized. She felt small tears well up at the corners of her eyes and to hurriedly pressed her lips to his.

Rinol groaned into her mouth, squeezed her to him. Isoli shivered in his arms.

Eventually they broke apart. Rinol brought up one of his hands to cup her face, thumb brushing the tears away from her eye. He cupped her scaled side. Isoli nuzzled her cheek into his hand, smiling.

“I love you so much, Isoli. You have no idea.”

“You tell me that all the time,” she said, gently pressing her lips to the palm of his hand.

“And I’ll keep saying it until I find better words. But until then, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And she pulled him by the hand to her lips once more. This kiss was much more heated and Isoli felt desire pool in her core, her smallclothes becoming damp. Desire for Rinol, a familiar, pleasurable ache. She rocked her hips against him, feeling Rinol harden, press into her. She was only wearing smallclothes beneath her skirt. It would be so easy to slip his length inside. . . . Isoli moaned softly into his mouth, tongues battling for dominance—

A cough behind them. Isoli, startled, broke away and jumped off Rinol’s lap. Silhouette was standing in the doorway, hood up as usual, her shadowed face unreadable.

“Am I interrupting anything?” she said.

“Um, no. No, not at all,” Isoli said, cheeks flaring red.

“I’m sure,” the tiefling said. “Well, I would suggest you two use the room you share. That is its purpose, after all.” And she turned and went into the kitchen.

Isoli glanced at Rinol. His hands were clenched by his sides. She glanced at his lap, saw the obvious bulge within his pants. Isoli smiled. It was nice to know she had such an effect on him.

“Well,” Isoli said. “Um . . . do you want me to take care of that?”

Rinol’s eyes snapped to hers. She could see the lust within them: powerful, consuming. It made her core ache, and Isoli clenched her thighs together. He said, almost breathless, “Gods, yes.”

“Upstairs?”

He nodded and lurched to his feet. Isoli giggled and got up as well, following close behind him.

It took all of her willpower not to take him on the second story landing. Rinol didn’t glance at her once, knowing that she was following.

Once inside their room, he turned around and pressed his body against hers, taking her lips into a searing kiss, pushing her back against the wood of the door. Isoli moaned at the suddenness of it. She tangled her normal hand into his hair, drawing him closer. He pressed his hips into her, making sure she felt his hardened length. Isoli groaned, breaking their kiss, pushing her center into him, desperate for a way to relieve this awful, exhilarating craving.

Isoli kissed his chin, his neck, bit down into the sensitive flesh of Rinol’s throat. She wanted to mark him, to prove that he was hers. She heard Rinol groan at the sudden, sharp pain, felt his hands grip her ass and his cock grind into her core. Isoli felt a thrill run through her: pressed between Rinol’s hard, unyielding chest and the wooden door. She felt trapped, but in the best way possible, and her heart beat wildly in her chest.

“Clothes, off,” Isoli panted, her fingers already at the bottom of Rinol’s shirt, pulling it upwards.

Rinol nodded, stepped back, drew the shirt over his head and cast it aside. He kicked off his boots and socks, undid his belt, let his trousers fall around his ankles, stood in only his smallclothes—with a bulge that betrayed his desire for her. Isoli took him in: pale green skin, his wiry, snake-like frame, long legs and arms. He had splotches of scales, like her, but whereas Isoli’s scales stood out against her pale skin like dark blotches of corruption, his were finer, blended better into his skin.

She moaned, ached to feel his hands on her once more, despite the dozens of times they’d made love, the countless hours spent in each other’s arms. It was just as fresh and exciting as the very first time, all those months ago.

Then Rinol pushed the undergarment down and it fell to join his pants and he was naked before her. He crossed what little distance there was between them, took her mouth up into another searing, soul-bursting kiss. Then they broke apart and Isoli saw that he was grinning.

“Your turn,” he said, and Isoli nodded quickly.

She slipped her shirt off, tossed it away. She pulled her breastband off as well and Rinol’s hands came up to cup her breasts. He leaned down and kissed one hardened nipple, then the other. He drew one into his mouth and Isoli moaned, tangling her hand into his hair to hold him there. She felt his tongue—slightly pointed at the end and much more flexible than any other man’s she’d felt before—play over her nipple. Rinol pulled away with a soft pop, licked his lips, then suckled the other nipple.

“Fuck!” Isoli said. She felt as if she would melt. The ache between her legs was unbearable. All she wanted was sweet release. “Rinol, please!”

Rinol let her nipple go, planted wet kisses between her breasts. He fell to his knees, kissing his way down her chest until he was eye-level with her waist. Isoli’s inner muscles fluttered, realizing what he was going to do. For a moment, she wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to, that it would be murder on his knees. But the sight of him on his knees before her, ready to pleasure her with his mouth while she stood above him . . . Isoli figured to hell with his knees. The floor was carpeted.

Rinol looked up at her, eyes dark. His hands slipped into the waistband of her skirt and drew it down her legs. He pulled the skirt away. Isoli raised one foot, then the other, and Rinol tossed the fabric away. He kissed his way up from her feet to her thighs, lips hot and wet against her legs. Isoli’s breath was coming quick and shallow.

There were a few patches of scales on her legs, including a long stripe of black that curled from the back of her left calf up to her mid thigh. Rinol licked a trail from where it curled up over her knee to the top of the stripe. Isoli felt only the pressure, none of the heat or wetness, but the image of him doing it. . . . She felt wetness leaking down her inner thighs, knew that this pair of smallclothes had served their use for the day.

And as if reading her mind, Rinol took her smallclothes and roughly pulled it down to her knees. The smell of sex filled the space around them, and Rinol breathed in deeply. He looked up at her, and she nodded, desperate, whispered, “Yes, please.”

Rinol surged forward, buried his face between her thighs, tongue lashing out to taste her. He gathered up her wetness and drank deeply, like a man dying of thirst. Isoli had to bite her lip to keep from screaming, but it didn’t stop a long, high-pitched whine from escaping her mouth.

Rinol’s tongue pushed into her slit, thrust in and out. Isoli gasped, hips jerking involuntarily. Her clawed hand dug into the door, scouring long lines into the wood. Her other hand gripped Rinol’s hair tightly, keeping him trapped in the junction of her thighs. He sucked on her folds, drawing more wetness from her.

“Fuck! Rinol, fuck!” she moaned, trying her best to stay quiet so they didn’t alert the entire house as to what they were doing.

He pinned her hips into the wood with his hands, pressed his tongue flat and firm and licked up her entrance. Isoli’s legs trembled and she dug her claw hard into the door. Her hips rolled against Rinol’s face, short little jerks in what little she could move in his hands. She clenched her inner muscles, desperate for something—anything—to fill her.

Rinol pulled away. Isoli, chest rising and falling rapidly, looked down at him. His chin was smeared with her wetness, and at the sight of it, she felt her core pulse.

“You taste divine,” he murmured, drawing one of his hands from her hip to her inner thigh, gently scraping his nails across her sensitive skin. His finger teased at her entrance, probing her wet, slick folds.

Isoli whimpered, legs quivering. “Please, Rinol. . . .”

“Of course, my love,” he murmured and he brought his mouth over her clit and plunged a finger—no, two!—inside her tight, wet heat.

Isoli couldn’t stop herself. She let out a scream for a half-second before clamping her hand over her mouth. Her claw dug further into the door. Rinol flicked his tongue over her bud, drawing more wetness into the palm of his hand. His fingers curled upwards within her. He thrust into Isoli’s core, rough and fast and hard.

Isoli’s hand flashed from her mouth to Rinol’s hair and she thrust against his hand. She felt her muscles clench, felt ready to snap.

Then she felt a third finger enter her. Isoli swallowed another scream. “Fuck, you feel so good, Rinol, so good. . . .”

Rinol curled his fingers, dragged his teeth lightly up Isoli’s clit, sucked hard on the sensitive bud. Isoli opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out, and she exploded.

She came hard into his mouth, spilling wetness into his palm and onto his chin. Rinol’s mouth moved to her entrance, lapping up what he could of the sudden hot flood. The rest split down her legs, dripped onto the floor, jetted into his palm. Isoli’s legs quivered and it took all of her strength to not collapse atop Rinol. And through it all, he thrust into her tight, vice-like canal, wringing as much pleasure as he possibly could from her.

Eventually, she calmed. The pleasure receded to a distant, warm ache. Rinol leaned back and Isoli saw that his face and chest were covered in her wetness. She flushed, although that didn’t really reveal much on her already red cheeks. She wiped her forehead of sweat and brushed her hand over his cheeks. Rinol grinned up at her, pride obvious in his eyes.

“I take it you enjoyed that,” he said, licking his lips. Licking her essence off his lips like frosting from a cake.

“Gods, yes. Although . . .,” and she pushed gently on his shoulder. Rinol followed her movements and lay down on his back. His cock stood at attention, jumping slightly in time with his pulse. “I’m not done yet.” She lowered herself to her knees, straddling his waist, trapping his cock between his stomach and her sopping wet folds.

His eyes flickered past her, then back to her. “Good, I don’t think the door could handle another one of your orgasms.”

Isoli glanced at the door. There were a quintet of long, vicious rents into the wood of the door where her claw had dug in. She looked back at Rinol and saw that he had adopted a satisfied smirk. Well, Isoli just couldn’t have that.

“Well, consider it an appetizer,” she muttered and leaned down to kiss him. Her long blonde hair tumbled around their faces, forming a curtain between them and the rest of the world. It was just the two of them: Rinol splayed out on the carpeted floor of their bedroom, Isoli straddling him and grinding her folds against his hard cock. She tasted herself on his lips, a slightly musky, salty taste.

Rinol groaned as Isoli’s core slid over his length. His hands came up to her hips, fingers digging into the flesh there, guiding her over his aching cock. Isoli knew that he wanted nothing more than to be buried within her, and to be honest, so did she.

“Isoli, fuck . . . you’re so beautiful,” he said softly.

Isoli whimpered, feeling the head of his cock brush against her entrance. Fuck it. The time for foreplay and games was over. She just wanted to feel him.

She thrust her hand down between their bodies, lifted her hips, grasped his cock and positioned it at her entrance. Then she sank down onto his glorious, hard length and all was right with the world. Isoli threw her head back and let out a wanton moan, forgetting for a moment that they were fucking in the middle of the day and everyone was up and about and it would be common courtesy to keep the sounds of their lovemaking quiet. But a part of Isoli—a large part, if she was being honest—didn’t care, wanted to scream until her throat was hoarse.

Rinol’s thumb found her clit and he rubbed in harsh, quick circles. Isoli’s hips jerked of their own accord, and she rolled her hips into Rinol’s touch, grinding down on his cock. Rinol’s other hand came up to cup one of her full breasts, thumbing over her nipple. Isoli gasped and shuddered at the treatment, lifted herself up only to plunge back down on his cock. She felt every ridge and vein and bump, clenched her inner muscles around him. Rinol groaned and he thrust up into her tight wet heat. He brought up his knees so that Isoli could lean back against something, so that he had more purchase in thrusting into her.

Isoli arched her back, pushing her breasts into Rinol’s hand. She moved up and down his cock, felt him throb within her, felt her own muscles flutter and pulse around him. Wetness spilt around his cock, gathered on their thighs and his lower stomach. The pleasure within her ratcheted up a notch and they thrust harder against each other, seeking release. Isoli fell forward, catching herself on his shoulders. Her hips moved seemingly on their own, pushing down on Rinol as he thrust upwards. His thumb rubbed harder against her clit and Isoli whimpered. She placed hurried kisses around Rinol’s throat.

Their room was filled with the scent of their lovemaking—a heady, warm smell. Obscene sounds, too: wet squelches, soft cries, low groans, the rhythmic smacking of flesh against flesh.

“Please, I’m so close . . .,” Isoli whimpered into his chest.

Rinol’s hands found her hips, fingers gripping her flesh hard enough to leave bruises.

“Come for me, baby,” and he thrust hard once last time, burying himself as deep as he could within her body.

Isoli came hard. The pressure that had been building finally burst and she gushed all over his lap. Her inner muscles clenched around his cock and she felt hot bursts from his cock. Isoli sobbed, her entire body quivering atop him. Rinol’s hands roamed her back, comforting strokes. He thrust gently through her orgasm, extending it. Isoli’s core milked him for everything he was worth. Their mixed fluids leaked out around where they were joined.

Isoli pressed soft kisses to Rinol’s throat, nuzzled into him and closed her eyes, letting herself just be held. She felt warm and sated and, best of all, the stress and worry of the past few days had slipped away, replaced with a contented feeling in its place. Rinol’s hands still kept stroking up and down her back, brushing her skin and scales alike.

He said, “Feeling better?”

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

“I’m glad. . . . You want to move to the bed? As comfortable as this carpet is, my back is starting to hurt.”

She frowned and shook her head no. “Don’t want to move.”

He laughed. She felt his hands move down to cup her ass, abs clench and legs shift and suddenly he was picking her up. Isoli yelped in surprise, her legs wrapped around his lips on instinct, locking ankles. They were still joined by the press of their bodies together.

“Rinol!” she protested.

He just laughed again and stumbled the few feet over to their bed before collapsing on top of her. He kissed her softly, brushing her hair out of her face. Isoli smiled up at him and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Hey, there,” she said.

“Hey, yourself.” They kissed again, slow and loving, throwing everything they had into it, all their love and worry, their commitment to each other, unspoken promises to never abandon the other.

They broke apart and moved so that they were positioned more on top of the bed than hanging off. Isoli put her head on his chest, felt Rinol’s heart beat against her temple. She breathed deeply, smiling.

“Thank you,” she said. “I needed that more than I realized.”

“Glad to be of service,” Rinol responded. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her close.

A long moment passed as they let themselves drift in their embrace.

“We should go back downstairs at some point,” Isoli said. “Be responsible and things.”

“I don’t know. I think we can be responsible up here. What if someone comes in through our window?”

“You make a good point,” she said, chuckling slightly. “Maybe a little while longer.”

THE END


End file.
